One Night Only
by OtherLuces
Summary: A re-telling of the story that Jon tells Lana from chapter 11 of The Man with the Green Eyes, but from the perspective of "that charming young lady". A request for my gal BrodieBlue. PWP, for the most part.


I love to fuck pro wrestlers. There's no sugar coating it and I'm not ashamed. Some people look down on me, but I think they're just jealous. I'm a bit of a staple around the local indy scene. I've been passed around more times than I can remember and I absolutely love it. But I've never banged one of the guys in the "major leagues". They always seemed out of reach. They also have a lot more security and if you hang out outside after a show and look a certain way, they tend to know what you're there for and they send you away.

I had heard that there was a WWE show coming around my area, so I had a hard internal debate about it, and decided to just go for it. The day before the show, I went to get a Brazilian wax for the first time (fuck, it hurt!) and had my faded dyed hair refreshed to a vibrant red. I wanted to try to look my best if I was going to attempt this. I mean, these guys can have their pick of any chick, right? I would need to try to make myself stand out if I wanted to get my hands on one of them.

I didn't actually go to the show that night. I normally like to hang out at the indy shows and get to know the boys in a way other than just biblically. But I wasn't about to sit in the nosebleeds for three hours and then have to sift through seas of people to try to get into position to make my move. I arrived at the stadium around 10:45pm, just before the show ended and everyone would be clogging the parking lot. I parked near the outskirts of the lot behind the stadium. It was close enough so that I could see the backdoor where I assumed the boys exited. I planned to stay here, wait for them to leave, and then approach one while they were packing up their cars, rather than stand with the gaggle of fangirly rats that hang out right by the door. They probably thought that they'd be able to get close to the boys, but I had a feeling that they'd be sent away before the end of the night. Feh, amateurs.

And so I waited.

Finally I saw the door swing open a little after midnight. As I had expected, the clump of girls had been dispersed, although some were still wandering around the parking lot, probably planning the same thing that I was. I got out of my car and leaned against the hood, scouting the area for who looked like they might be an easy target.

I noticed that the three Shield boys were headed toward a car that was close to where I was. Bingo. That Ambrose guy was infamous for being a slut, right? He must be an easy lay. I smoothed down the skirt that I had decided to wear that night and headed in their direction.

When I was close, I noticed Rollins elbow Ambrose in the arm and point over to me. He turned around to watch me walk up to them and a small smile crossed his mouth. I clenched my stomach and it took everything I had not to turn around and run away from nerves. I had never been this close and the Indy boys never felt as intimidating. I stopped in front of him and for a few seconds, we just stood there staring at each other.

"Yes?" he asked, elongating the e sound. He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side.

I swallowed hard. I'm not sure why I thought this would have been easier. It _should_ be easier. It's not like both of us didn't know why I was here in front of him at this time of night. "Hi. I'm just a really big fan. I love you guys. I really enjoy watching you work."

"Oh yeah? Did you enjoy the show tonight?" he asked. Rollins and Reigns were busy loading up the rental car and paid no attention to me. I nodded in response, even though I was lying about going. I bet I would have enjoyed it had I seen it. "Well then, would you like to watch me work some more back in my hotel room?" I could hear both of the other men groan from where they stood.

"You mean like watch some old matches with you?" I couldn't believe I spit out a pathetic answer like that. I sounded like a freaking moron. I mentally cursed myself, but Ambrose seemed to be amused by it, so maybe it wasn't so bad.

"Yeah, right. Tapes, darlin." He cracked his neck and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a copy of his keycard and handed to it me. "Room 308. Wait like 30 minutes before you show up. I assume you know which hotel, right? You fangirls usually do."

I clutched the keycard in my hand and nodded again. I looked down at it, then back to him, and smiled. His smile widened as well. I headed back to my car, but looked over my shoulder once before I got there. He was still in the same spot and staring at my ass. This was going to be fun.

* * *

I almost knocked on the hotel door out of habit. I slipped the keycard in and slowly opened the door. Dean was standing by the window wearing jeans and an old looking t-shirt. A thin wisp of smoke was circling around his head. He turned around when he heard me shut the door.

"Hey," he mumbled around his cigarette.

"Hey," I replied. "So, uh…where are those tapes?" I was still a bit nervous and tried to use my mess up from earlier as a cute way to break the ice. I could see him smirk a little, but he didn't seem as amused as he had been earlier. He stubbed out his cigarette in the complimentary ash tray and disappeared into the bathroom.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and kicked off my heels. I took a deep breath. This felt so much bigger than what I was used to. It really shouldn't be. Sex is sex. Just because this guy is one of the most desired, most sought after men on the planet right now shouldn't make any difference. I realized that I had been in my head for a moment, and when I became aware of what was in front of me, I was greeted with the site of Ambrose standing with his cock pulled out of his jeans and his large hand casually stroking it. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen.

I slid off of the bed onto my knees and quickly crawled the few feet over to him. I took his cock into my small hand and ran my tongue from the base to the tip, savoring the taste of every inch of him. This is what I loved. Worshipping the cocks of these men was my religion. I have to admit that I had often wondered what Ambrose would taste like when watching on Monday nights. I imagine that I wasn't the first, and certainly won't be the last, woman to have that curiosity cross her mind.

My mouth began to salivate at the mere thought of his entire length down my throat, stretching my mouth and filling it to the brim. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand before I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock. I slowly pushed my mouth further down around his dick, feeling myself getting wetter at the excruciatingly sweet sensation of him pulsing on my tongue. When my lips finally touched the base, I paused, just to savor him. I let out a long moan that rumbled in my throat and I could feel him twitch. I let my eyes slowly flutter up to meet his.

"Damn," he laughed.

He gently stroked my hair and I thought that he might end up taking control of the blowjob, but he didn't. He did, however, stumble back a few feet so that his back was resting against the wall. He slipped out of my mouth when he did this, of course. I felt so empty for a moment. I scuttled forward on my knees and quickly swallowed his cock again.

"You're one eager slut, aren't you?" I simply moaned as my response.

I wrapped my fingers tightly around the base and began to work my mouth up and down his length, tightening my lips as much as I could. My mouth was getting as wet as my pussy was and I could feel some spit start to dribble out of my mouth. I bobbed my head faster and could feel him tighten. To be able to say that I had Ambrose cum in my mouth would be like a crowning achievement for me. I was determined to keep going and get my prize.

He suddenly grabbed the back of my head and jerked me back so that he popped out of my mouth. There was a strand of saliva that still connected his dick to my tongue until I closed my mouth and broke it. I looked up at him, confused. Was I not doing well enough for him? My technique had always made the local boys come in mere minutes.

Ambrose stared down at me with a look that I could only describe as beastly. He looked like he wanted to eat me alive.

He wrapped my hair once around his fingers and yanked up sharply. I quickly stumbled to my feet so that he wouldn't do it again. My scalp was throbbing slightly. He let go of my hair and I went to rub the sore spot on my head when he took both of his hands and pushed me hard. I staggered forward and fell face-first onto the bed.

I flipped myself over and Ambrose was right on top of me. He grabbed the bottom hem of my skirt and slid it up my legs until it was sitting around my waist. My stomach was churning with nerves and excitement from the suddenness of his actions. His eyes slowly wandered from my face downward, stopping at my pussy.

"What the fuck is this?" he asked. I assumed he was talking about my lucky thong that I wore when I went to any wrestling show.

"It's a thong, Dean."

"Yeah, but why does it say that you love chicken?"

"It's supposed to be 'I love co-aiee!" I yelped in the middle of my sentence because while I was distracted by his dumb question, he had lowered his mouth between my legs and bit one of my lips. Hard. I was not expecting something like that, but when I thought about it, I should have expected him to be rough and unorthodox in bed. I had to remember who I was fucking with here.

I stared down at him and his eyes flickered back onto mine. He slipped his long fingers under the strings of my thong and pulled it down and off of my body. He stretched it over his fingers like a slingshot and sent it flying across the room.

I could immediately smell my arousal and I knew exactly when he could smell it too because his nostrils flared slightly and his eyes slowly turned back to mine.

"You dirty fucking slut. I must really turn you on, don't I?" he asked while a smug grin covered his face. I quickly averted my eyes and felt my cheeks flush. He made me awfully embarrassed about my sexuality. He gently traced his fingers over the flesh of my bare pussy. "So soft…" he whispered. He ran his finger down my slit and I raised my hips slightly in the hopes it would encourage his finger to roam deeper.

He quickly pulled his hand away and placed a finger on my mouth. "I want to hear you tell me what you want."

I opened my mouth and sucked on his finger, tasting a hint of my juices on it. I then pulled my mouth away and answered him. "I want you to eat my pussy and make me come all over your face."

He immediately shoved his mouth back in between my legs, making small quick laps at my swollen clit. It felt so damn good that I let out this long high pitched squeal. I was known to get a bit overzealous in the sound department during sex, but I had never in my life heard _that_ noise come out of me. Ambrose shoved three fingers into my mouth before I could really think about it and I eagerly suckled at them.

He changed his speed and began to run his tongue slowly up and down the folds of my pussy. "You taste really fucking good," I heard him faintly mutter. I softly moaned around his fingers. If only I could have a recording of him saying that, I could die a happy woman.

My hips bucked up happily whenever his tongue would touch my clit. It wasn't that I was doing it on purpose. I just have always had a very sensitive reflex there. This apparently upset Mr. Ambrose because he smacked my thighs three times in a row. His hands were so large that they were almost like paddles and he used such force that I had a feeling that I'd have bruises there by the next night. I focused on my breathing and did everything I could to keep my hips to myself.

He was down there, lapping away at me for minutes, sending me through endless crests of pleasure, until I finally felt my orgasm swell and explode through me like TNT. I couldn't hold back my wild hips this time. I thrust my pelvis up into his mouth, grinding my elbows into the mattress and throwing my head back, causing his fingers to fall out of my mouth.

When I tilted my head back upright, he was standing up and slipping his belt out of his jeans. I reached my hand down and felt my pussy. This has to be the wettest I have ever been in my life. Just when I didn't think I would get any wetter, Ambrose yanked down his jeans and boxers and I finally got a full view of him naked. His dick was so hard that it was almost standing straight up on its own. I knew I was leaving a wet spot on the sheets from my extreme arousal, but I didn't care. I wanted him to fuck me so bad.

He grabbed the condom that he must've left on the nightstand in advance and tore it open. Once he was finished rolling it on, he crawled on top of me and planted his hands on either side of my face. I lifted my legs, squeezing the sides of his body with my thighs. I was so damn wet that his cock slid straight inside of me with little effort.

He didn't bother going slow. He knew how horny I was and how badly I wanted it, and I think he wanted it badly, too. He dug his fingers into my thighs in an attempt to steady me and thrust into my pussy like a madman. I clawed at his shoulders, squeezing the tense muscle, trying to find a way to hold on for dear life as he gave me the best fuck I've ever had. Legitimately.

He was fucking me so fast and hard that my breasts were actually starting to hurt from the violent back and forth motion. I cupped my hands over my breasts to stop them from moving. They got a little bit of relief before I noticed him glaring at me

"No. Let me see them," he demanded.

He took one of his hands and slapped mine away. I slapped my arms down onto the mattress and grasped at the sheets. My back arched and my head twisted back and forth as I let this delicious pleasure wash over me.

I felt my orgasm building for a second time. It felt like it was going to be much stronger this time, so I gritted my teeth and braced myself for it. Every muscle in my body tightened and a loud guttural moan was torn from my throat as it pulsed through my body. I heard Dean grunt softly a moment later and could feel his dick pulse against my walls as he shot his load into the latex barrier. His eyes were closed while he came, and he almost looked beautiful, perhaps angelic, in this orgasmic fog. A moment later, he opened his eyes again and winked at me, smiling.

He pulled out of me and got up off the bed. He stopped at the trash can and tossed out the used condom. He turned to return to the bed, but paused for a moment, something on the bedside table catching his eye. He picked up his phone and swiped across the screen. I watched as his eyes moved back and forth over the screen and a smile appeared on his face. It wasn't the arrogant smile that I had seen on TV and had already seen tonight. No, this was a genuinely happy smile. I wasn't sure what he was looking at, but his smile was so infectious that I had to smile, too.

He tossed the phone back down and headed toward the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway and turned around. "I'm going to go take a shower. I think it would be best if you weren't here when I get out."

I nodded. I knew the unwritten rule of the one-night stand. I didn't take any offense to it at all. Some of the local boys would ask me to stay the night with them, but most didn't, so I was used to it. He shut the door behind him and I heard the spray of the water hitting the shower tiles. I quickly gathered my scattered clothing and got dressed. I didn't know how quickly he showered, but I didn't want to risk still being around when he got out.

Once I was fully dressed, I grabbed my purse and was about to leave the room when I suddenly got an urge to look at his phone. It was just killing me to not know what he had looked at. I flipped his phone over and swiped at the screen. There was an open text message from some chick, who he had apparently dubbed "Bitch", that read _Yeah sure, I'll listen to your dumb story, you slut_. I wasn't quite sure what she meant by the text. She didn't look familiar, so she wasn't a wrestler, and I was pretty sure that I read that he didn't have a sister. Did Ambrose have a girlfriend or something? But if he had a girlfriend who, at least based on his facial expression, made him very happy, then why was he fucking around with rats like me?

I flipped the phone back over and shrugged. Whatever. It's not my problem. I got what I wanted. I went up to play in the major leagues and hit a home run on my first at bat. I quietly exited through the door and closed it behind me. As soon as I was in the hallway, I pulled out my own phone and called up my best friend.

"Hey Becky, you'd better sit down for this one, because you won't believe what I did tonight."

* * *

**So I just couldn't help but put in a little something that related to the main story to make it a little more than PWP. ^^()**


End file.
